


Comforting Distraction

by mydeira



Series: Something Maybe 'Verse [7]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 04:58:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Comfort comes in many forms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comforting Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: through “Countrycide”
> 
> Disclaimer: Sadly, I am neither RTD nor the BBC. This is purely for the exorcism of the big bad bunny that landed on my head.
> 
> A/N: Follows Friendly Advice and takes place near the end of the episode “Countrycide.” This is the seventh installment in the Something Maybe ‘Verse. Most of what we saw in the episode transpires pretty much the same way in my little ‘verse.

“Where are you going?”

Gwen’s voice from the passenger's seat startled Owen. She’d barely said a word to any of them on the drive back from Brecon after refusing to go with the medics like Ianto had. The only time she had really spoken was to turn down Jack’s offer to drop her off at home and insist that she was perfectly capable of helping them get things settled back at the Hub. Owen's own offer of a lift when they’d finished up was met with silent assent.

“I’m taking you home,” he answered her finally. What else would be doing?

“I don’t want to go home.” Her voice was tired, flat sounding.

“You’re exhausted and should have gone to hospital. But since you’re too stubborn for that, home’s the place for you.”

“No.” He saw her wince as she shifted in her seat to look at him. “I don’t want to go home, Owen,” she insisted. “I can’t. Not right now.”

“You should,” he said, but turned his car toward his flat at the next light.

“Maybe,” was all she said before lapsing back into silence.

Owen knew it was a very bad idea, that if he were any kind of decent person, he would still drop her off at her place and take no arguments to the contrary. But he wasn’t a decent person. Truth was, he was kind of glad she didn’t want to go home and was relieved not be going back to his flat alone.

Once parked, he grabbed their bags from the back and led the way inside. Gwen seemed perfectly at home as she made her way to his liquor cabinet. Retrieving the whiskey, she had two generous glasses poured by the time he joined her there.

“Thank you,” she said as she lifted her glass and drank down half of the amber liquid. “I’m going to go use your shower.” She finished off the rest of the drink and went to get her things.

Gwen disappeared with her bag, leaving Owen alone with his thoughts. It reminded him of the first time she had come to his place. Not asking, just inviting herself in. It had impressed him then as it did now, even if both times left him a bit off-balance.

Ignoring his drink, he went to look out at the darkening bay.

He realized several minutes had passed and he still hadn’t heard the water for the shower switch on. Concerned, he went to his bathroom and rapped on the door.

“Everything all right?”

Getting no response, he opened the door. He found Gwen standing there, half undressed and staring at herself in the mirror. She had removed her bandage, and the wounds stood out angry and red in the glaring light. The dried blood and dirt and grime smudged across her pale skin made her look so incredibly vulnerable, so human that it hurt.

“Gwen?” he said quietly as he edged into the bathroom.

“I can’t make sense of it, Owen.” Those wide, staring hazel eyes narrowed slightly in the mirror as she focused on him. “I know that people can be cruel, that they can be so despicably evil. I saw that when I was with the police. And I’ve seen things with Torchwood that no sane person would accept. But I have. Then today, yesterday, that village…” she stopped. “I don’t know anymore, Owen. I don’t—”

“Stop,” he cut her off. “Just stop.”

She turned away from the mirror to face him. God, she looked so incredibly lost.

Owen gently pushed Gwen’s wild hair out of her face. “There are just some things that can’t be understood. And if you keep on at them, you’ll go mad.” Her mouth opened as if to protest, but he moved his fingers to rest lightly over her lips. “Just. Stop.” Then he replaced his fingers with his lips. He kept the kiss soft and fleeting but didn’t pull back until he felt her start to respond.

She looked slightly dazed. “Owen?”

He flashed her what wasn’t quite a smile and led her over to the shower. “Let’s get you cleaned up, what do you say?”

Gwen nodded, her hands going to the fastening on her jeans. But he quickly shooed them aside.

“Let me,” he said. It was more command than plea.

And, surprisingly, she did, arms dropping to her sides as he set to removing the rest of her clothes. He reached into the shower and quickly got the water set to comfortably hot before guiding her in. Owen undressed then, shedding his garments in short order, and joined Gwen in the shower.

She gave a start when he reached around her for the shampoo but didn’t protest when he moved to start cleaning her up. If anything, she seemed to welcome it. By the time he moved from her hair to the rest of her body, he could feel some of the tension easing from her. He saved her wound for last, carefully avoiding it as he soaped and rinsed the rest of her skin clean of the grime and blood of the last day.

“Now this isn’t going to be so pleasant,” he warned as he began washing the angry marks on her right side. Her skin trembled at his touch and he could see her breathing increase, but she didn’t complain, just let him work. She was a tough one, there was no denying it.

He was just rinsing off the last of the soap when fingers lighted under his chin, forcing his head up. The haunted look had somewhat abated from her eyes. In its place was something almost akin to admiration. Or maybe it was just the steam making him see things that weren’t really there.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she leaned forward and kissed him. Gwen took the soap and moved behind him.

He started to protest. “Gwen, I can—”

She nudged him under the spray, cutting off his words. “Shut it.” The command was anything but cruel.

Gwen was every bit as attentive as he had been. More so, even. Her touch lingered after areas were more than clean. Owen felt himself start to respond to the caresses and movements of her hands. Something about the fact that he had Gwen Cooper naked in his shower hadn’t really registered before. But he’d been so focused attending to her that he really hadn’t noticed. Christ, maybe he was growing as a person.

He laughed at the thought.

Gwen’s hands stilled for a moment before continuing what they were doing. “What’s so funny?”

“Me finally waking up to the fact that you’re completely starkers in my shower, and I haven’t taken advantage of that.”

Her lips curled in amusement. “You didn’t get hit on the head today, did you?”

“No, for once I escaped completely unscathed.”

“So that makes you an idiot then.”

“Oi! I’m being considerate,” he said, snatching the soap out of her hands and setting it aside. He pulled her close, careful of her injured side. “If I’d been all over you this entire time, you’d be calling me an insensitive prick.”

“You are an insensitive prick. Most of the time.” She smiled at him. “But you have your moments.”

“I think that’s what they call damning with faint praise.”

Gwen curled her hand around the back of his neck, guiding him forward. Her lips were soft but insistent as she enticed him into the kiss. It was so easy to get lost in her. The feel, the taste, the way she responded… He settled his hand on her hips and was careful to keep away from her injured side as he pulled her close.

“What do you say to moving this to drier quarters?” he asked, nipping along her jawline.

He felt her smile. “Afraid we’ll run up your water bill?”

“Hardly. I just don’t care to have the mood spoiled when the water turns to ice.”

“Ice isn’t always a mood killer,” she said lightly as she twisted out of his grip and got out of the shower.

Owen filed the information away for future reference. He turned off the water and followed Gwen out.

After toweling off, he started to riffle through various drawers and found that he was sadly low on his first aid supplies. Time to pilfer from Torchwood again. Fortunately, he’d brought the medical bag home with him.

He had retrieved the bag and was laying out the things he need on the bed when Gwen joined him.

“What are you doing?” she asked perching on the edge of the bed.

“Playing doctor.”

That earned him an unladylike snort.

Owen just shook his head. “Walked right into that. All right, now towel off and lie back.”

“And think of Torchwood?” Gwen took off her towel and laid back with a smirk.

“I’d rather you thought of me if you needed a distraction.” He flashed her a cheeky grin as he settled in to work. “But why think when you can look?”

“Looking at you is supposed to distract me?” She ran one of her hands lightly up his thigh.

“That’s going to distract me.”

“I don’t know, from what I’ve seen you’re pretty good at tuning out distraction when you need to.”

Some distractions were easier to ignore than others. Gwen’s wandering hand definitely was an other.

He tried to focus on each individual wound in turn. “You want this done right, you might want to lay off that.”

“If I wanted half-arsed, I’d do it.” She removed her hand. “So, I’ll keep my distractions to myself. For now.”

Gwen distracting herself—yeah, that was worse than the roving hand. He glared at her and received an impish grin in return. Oh, he was going to pay her back plenty for that. Bloke tries to do the right thing, do his job, and gets nothing but a hard time. Being a doctor without having to worry about patients talking back most of the time really was ideal.

Owen was so intent on the work before him that it wasn’t until he was affixing the bandage that he realized Gwen hadn’t said anything for awhile. Glancing up, he found out why. She was sound asleep.

“Brilliant,” he muttered. Though, it wasn’t a surprise. Hell, she must have been running on adrenaline since she was shot.

He cleaned up his mess and then crawled into bed beside her. Pulling the comforter up over them both, he realized he was feeling pretty knackered himself. It had been a hell of a few days. And if he hadn’t hated the idea of camping before, he certainly did now.

Sighing, he curled around Gwen. “Don’t think I’m not going to pay you back for this, sweetheart,” Owen murmured, kissing her lightly on the cheek. He tried to ignore the sense of contentment of just having someone to share his bed with as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
